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Post war recluse Harry who does interviews once in a while to get the public to leave him alone and is completely unhinged

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on a more serious note my feelings about harry potter remain complicated and leaning negative but on the whole i’ve become more defiant about what i’m willing to let people take from me. i refuse to let that woman take the joy that harry potter has brought me at various points in my life away from me. i refuse to let her actions taint memories and diminish the friends i found through a mutual interest. i was literally part of the wedding party for two of my best friends last month and i met them both a decade ago on hp tumblr. she can’t take that from us. she’ll have to rip the love from my cold dead hands.

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people love to shit on the failings of a classic protagonist in favor of more interesting side characters but what appeals to me about a harry potter is that he’s a huge bitch

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let the man resurrect radioactive captains in peace!

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let the man resurrect radioactive captains in peace!

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Clamp didnt bully Clow Reed enough so we as fandom took that as challenge

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dw if I die I will still haunt the narrative

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Found this random low quality screenshot in gallery

Diversity loses. Bastard man who fucked up time and space is bisexual.

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a handsome bachelor

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into the magic forest

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"But I must say, Ginevra's dress is far too low-cut."

Ginny glanced round, grinning, winked at Harry, then quickly faced the front again.

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#this had to be done

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For @hinnyfest, prompt #8 - Ginny vs Dursley

***

“I saw your Aunt today,” splutters Ginny the moment that the door of the kitchen closes behind Al.

The pot that Harry was drying slips off his grip and falls to the floor; the sound echoes painfully in his ear.

“Did you?” He asks in a nonchalant voice, bending down to grab the pot.

“Yeah, when we were down at London to pick James’ birthday present.”

“So the kids—”

“Al and Lily were with me,” she confirms. Something claws inside Harry, until— “I didn’t let them meet her.”

Relief floods him suddenly; he remembers being Lily’s age, waking up from a nightmare and receiving only a cold stare. But Harry is over this, he is, so he just asks: “Why not?”

“I didn’t like the way she was looking at them.” She takes the pot from his hand to store it away.

“As if they were freaks?” Asks Harry in a faint voice.

Ginny glares at him fiercely. “Only if she wanted to get punched in the middle of the street. No—she was looking as if she were seeing a ghost.”

“Two, probably,” mumbles Harry. He knows what Aunt Petunia must have seen: a little red-headed girl named Lily Potter, and a boy with dark messy hair and Lily Evans’ green eyes. 

“Well, if she wants to feel haunted, that’s her problem. Not our children’s.” Her eyes soften. “Neither yours.”

“Yeah. Sure.” He knows he doesn’t sound too convincing; Ginny hugs him and, even though her head is buried in his chest and Harry’s arms are wrapped closely around her, he feels he is the one getting all the comfort. “I was just surprised.”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have just blurted it out like that.”

“No, that’s fine. Well, it’s okay at least,” he adds under her disbelieving gaze. “How did it go then?”

“Okay. Weird. She recognized me—that time we happened to meet at Dudley’s—but truly she couldn’t take her eyes off the kids.” She sighs heavily. “I think she wanted to meet them.”

“Oh.” There is a sudden need to go confirm if Al and Lily are safe in their bedroom right now. “And do you think—”

“No,” interrupts Ginny at once. “If she feels any regret, if she wants a second chance—she should ask you, not your children. She doesn’t get to try anything with them, that’s not how it works.”

“And do you think she wants a second chance…?”

“If she does, she can ask Dudley for our number. She can reach out to you and see if you want to talk to her.” Harry doesn’t answer her; Ginny breaks apart just enough to watch his face. “What? Why are you looking guilty?”

“It’s just—she’s also their family, so—”

“No.” She crosses her arms, jaw set. “Petunia Dursley is your relative, not your family. Your family is upstairs creating havoc in their rooms even though we told them to go to sleep. Your family are your friends, everyone who cares for you—not someone who just shares your blood, and nothing else.”

He pulls her closer again. “You are right,” he says, closing his eyes, and letting his head rest atop hers. “Myreal family is perfect.” Above them, there is the sound of something heavy falling on the floor; Lily’s giggle sounds through the house, just as Albus yells something. “And I wouldn’t change it for anything.”

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